The 23rd Hunger Games
by ForeverHutching
Summary: Following Franklyn Powell from District 5 as he journey's through the events of the Games. One thing he does know it that it may be dangerous within them but there are far more treacherous games at hand.


The 23rd Annual Hunger Games.

Bradley James Falcus.

The Hunger Games: FanFiction.

Part 1: The Destiny.

_Chapter 1._

It's the 5th year I've had to trail myself to the courtyard of district 5, and it still hasn't become any easier seeing all the people I know and love walk around like it's the everyday normal activity. Everyone there, fully well knowing it could be them and they all act like its natural and just nature's course. I've always thought that it would never be me; the odds are technically in my favour. I've never had to re-apply my name for tesserae and overall I've never really had a hard life; I suppose that's one of the perks of being the son of Edgar Powell, the head intellect of Panem.

Doing the math in my head, my name will have been placed in the reaping bowl only the bare minimum of 21 times, which compared to some of my class-mates, is astoundingly low. Although, in District 5 we have a better standard of living to someone say of 9, we still live in very poor conditions and yet still some families have to take out tesserae. I stand here and look across the people in the crowd, I have to wonder how many times their names will be in there. I catch eyes with a boy in the year below; he looks as pale as a ghost, so I give him a reassuring smile that appears to calm his nerves, but does nothing to help with mine. My mind turns to how Sia is feeling. She's normally very calm and collected at the reaping's but with her younger brother Kory entering for his first year she must be feeling the tension. Jorge is also playing on my mind; at 17 he's been entered more than anyone else in District 5, even more than any of the 18 year olds.

Then, with my mind too focused on other people I miss the introduction from our District leaders. I don't really mind missing that, it's the part that I don't pay attention to normally, then I see my father sat up there which seems strange but I shrug it off as nothing; he'll just be up there as a stand in for someone else who's Ill. And then I see him, District 5's escort, Cecil Fredrik.

Cecil "Acid-Tonged" Fredrik. Renowned for his ridiculous, often argumentative, nature is working a soft lemon suit with matching tower wig, bright orange shoes and red flamed make-up. It's unmistakable to think he's from anywhere other than the Capitol. He stands on the stage in front of the Justice building as usual, pacing backwards and forwards as if something's bothering him about the oncoming speech. Sooner or later a peacekeeper walks up the left flank of stairs towards Cecil and whispers into his ear, Cecil maintaining his composure nods and walks to the microphone. As that happens there's a deep breath from the entirety of the crowd as we prepare for what's coming next.

"Welcome, to the beginning of your 23rd annual Hunger Games." He states in his loud but very firm Capitol accent continuing to say; "I do apologise for the lateness of today's reaping, I wasn't expecting to be kept waiting as long as I did. Nowadays I have to ask myself, that you just can't get the staff, ha-ha." He says it in some kind of capitol humour. I heard my dad once speaking about the "slave-like" treatment of some of the people they take to the Capitol. It makes me think more in depth about the joke and how dark it could be viewed, but he seems very proud of it.

Once he realized that his words are falling on deaf ears, he moves on to point out the "Reaping Video". This certain video has been played every year since the very beginning of the Games to influence the thought of being owned, they don't want us to view it like that but it's made pretty obvious. Again it is another part that I don't care about listening too, I've heard it so many times previously that I could recite it to near-perfection, so I take a little more time to scan over the setup of the courtyard. As usual, the families are separated at the back of the crowd; the actual crowd are organised in age order with youngest at the front, meaning I'm placed somewhere near the back, thus giving me a great view of the whole yard. Now looking at it, the whole landscape of 5 is very bland, mostly grey granite buildings or wooden slatted houses. In fact, the only think that stands out is Cecil himself.

With the video close to finishing, I turn to the stage to watch Cecil's actions and he still seems anxious. Unless I didn't get the memo, that biting your lips was a normal everyday action, he's very on edge. It's beginning to make me apprehensive; it feels as if he's been ordered to kill someone himself.

He continues with his speech, stating "Ladies first!" which seems to be the common thing with all District escorts. He rummages around for a while and finally grabs a name. Opens it. Takes a breath. And reads aloud "Althea Ackroyd". I instantly turn to the opposite side of the courtyard to see which girl is Althea, and then she steps into view and I wondered how I could ever forget her. Althea, or Ally as her "crew" call her, is the most popular girl in the whole of the district. This girl is known by everyone, no matter what age, mostly because of her overall attitude to life. It appears that District 5 has a very strong willed and minded female tribute this year.

Then it's time for the boys, and I'm still reassuring myself that it won't be me. Of course there's always that nagging thought in the back of your head telling you that it is always possible no matter what the odds are. He walks over and taps the glass. I picture all the other boys around me and how many times their names have been entered, it appears now that everyone is feeling the same as I am, as their heads bow to face the floor around me. He reaches in. I chant in my head "It won't be me, It won't be me" but the more I focus the more nervous I get. He opens the paper. This is it, I'm going. It's over. But then he pauses before he reads the name, staring at it like it's going to jump out and bite him. He catches his breath and speaks into the microphone "Dyl... Franklyn Powell. Yes, Franklyn Powell."

Everyone looks around in shock at what just happened, an escort stumbling on his words. He almost said another name. Why? Why couldn't he have said that name instead of mine? And now I find everyone staring at me, and I just want to sit there and sob but hold in my emotions, whilst walking as briskly and casually as mentally and physically possible. Climbing the stairs like an impossible challenge, but a peacekeeper helps me up and I stumble towards my father, the District representatives, Althea and of course Cecil.

He asks us to shake hands and Althea's hand shoots out like a rocket eager for take-off, I apply minimum effort into the handshake, no doubt in a couple of days she'll want to kill me. Then, Cecil ends with a "Congratulations, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" and he turns us to the Justice Building. Those words still lingering in my head as I see the doors slam shut behind me. And that's when it hits me. I'm in, and there's only one way out.

Victory.


End file.
